Waiting Game
by SeaSaltSkye
Summary: War AU. Roxas is left behind while Axel gets enlisted. AkuRoku. Implied character death.


**I have no clue of what urged me to write this, but let's just file this under things I will never write about again, yeah? I don't know if I'm and idiot or just very narcissistic for crying over my own writing, ugh. I am trash. I'm not cut out for writing about sad stuff.  
Author's thoughts aside,**  
**Enjoy!  
X.X.X.**

Roxas sat there waiting.

He hated this; hated the feeling of being kept in the dark, unknowing, lost, and alone. It made him feel helpless, like the world had grabbed him by the scruff of his neck between its vicious jaws and refused to let go as it swung him back and forth. He could do nothing but let it happen.

He watched the street from the grimy window, the sill chipped and worn. Every car that drove by caused his stomach to drop and his heart to skip a beat, only to fill him with false hope as it drove on. A flash of red was all he wanted – all he needed.

_Everything was so cruel, _Roxas thought. _The world was a fucking cruel place. _

Why was he sitting here wallowing in his loneliness while his lover was out there fighting for a world that deemed it unacceptable for them to be together? Why is it, that he and Axel were forced to wear masks every day and assume the role of "just friends" while behind doors they meant the _world _to each other? "Just friends" didn't cut it.

The part that made Roxas want to bend over and spit up his guts was the fact that he had no way of knowing whether or not Axel was okay. Would a neatly groomed woman come by one day and hand him a slip informing him of his lover's death? No, that wouldn't happen. Over thinking was his worst enemy at this point.

And it was fucking sick, and Roxas hated every last bit of this disgusting reality.

He remembered the night before Axel left. They had stayed together, holding each other as Roxas whispered soothing words against his lover's cheek.

Axel had been terrified. He didn't want to leave; didn't want to leave Roxas here alone. They had been through far too much just to have it all end in unanswered questions.

"I love you." Axel had told him, his tear streaked face pressed up against Roxas' bare chest. "More than anything." Roxas had pretended he didn't notice the redhead crying for the sake of both of them.

"I love you too." Roxas mumbled against soft spikes. He ran his hand down Axel's face, caressing the damp skin. He wanted to remember the curve of his jaw, the slope of the bridge of his nose, the way his eyes were scrunched closed.

There was so much he still wanted to tell Axel – how many times more would he have said "I love you" if Axel didn't have to leave? How many more years would he have spent making dinner for two before Axel got home from work?

What was Axel thinking of as they lay there, holding each other in the dark, their blankets wrapped tight around them? Was he thinking about the same things? Worrying?

Morning came too fast.

Roxas wanted to lie there, as if somehow, if he just stayed there holding his sleeping lover every responsibility weighing them down would just disappear.

They showered together, both of them refusing to speak out of fear of what would be said. How everything they were going through couldn't be avoided. How this was the only way. How everything was so _fucking unfair. _

Breakfast was silent. Roxas hated it. It was as if there was this huge ominous cloud hovering over them; a constant reminder of what was to come. Axel wouldn't make eye contact with him as they finished their meal in silence. What was there to say?

When Axel stood there by the door frame waiting for his ride, that was when Roxas snapped. His apathetic mask he had been holding on to so well finally fell and shattered into tiny little bits as he grabbed his lover from behind, refusing to let go.

"Don't leave." Roxas pleaded, he face pressed hard against Axel's back. Tears soaked through the fabric, leaving a damp circle that grew bigger by the second.

"You don't have to leave. We could run away together." Roxas reasoned. He knew that was impossible. Where would they have gone?

"Roxas…" Axel's voice broke as a car pulled up to their house. He gently pulled his lover's arms away from his waist and made his way to the car.

He wanted to turn around, look at the blond man one last time. He wanted to run back to the frame of the door and kiss him and tell him he loved him but he didn't want to make this any harder than it already was. He wanted to give Roxas a proper goodbye. He didn't.

Axel rubbed at his eyes, dismissing the tears that threatened to fall as he continued his way to the car.

Roxas slumped to the ground in a sobbing mess, holding himself as he watched the car drive off, disappearing down the street.

"Axel." He gasped through his tears. "Come back."

Months later, Axel still hadn't come home. Years later, the war ended. Everyone was celebrating. Wives had their husbands back. Parents had their sons back. Siblings had their brother back.

But Roxas was alone.

His lover hadn't returned. He didn't celebrate. He didn't drink in the name of those fallen. He stayed home and watched.

Where was Axel? Dead? Alive?

Forgotten, perhaps?

No, that wasn't true. Axel wasn't forgotten as long as Roxas was still around to remember him.

And so Roxas sat alone in the house that used to belong to the both of them, as he would for the many years still to come; waiting for a certain car to pull up and a flash of bright red as he would watch his lover stroll up to the door, grinning.

They would kiss, and cry, and hold each other and Roxas would tell Axel about how much he had missed him.

They would have been happy.

So Roxas waited.


End file.
